Beyond the Grave
by Kaia-Rhea
Summary: Two policemen turn up on Kirsty's doorstep at 7:30 in the morning to arrest her in suspicion of killing her husband. Is anyone willing believe that she wouldn't do such a terrible thing?
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Hi, everybody! *Hi doctor Nick!* ...Ahem.  
>For any of you reading this who read my other Casualty fic 'Comatose', you'll know (or if you don't you will now) that because I fail at keeping my attention to more than one story at a time, I ended it sooner than I'd anticipated.<br>Ergo, I recently (about three minutes ago actually) decided to try and stick to one-shots, because although they don't generally get many reviews (hint hint) they should hopefully be more satisfactory for you guys because I can't leave them hanging for weeks and weeks.  
>So, this is the first... I haven't really planned anything, so I guess I'll just be making it up as I go along. Wish me luck! :D<strong>_

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><p>When the doorbell rang at 7:32 in the morning, Kirsty Clements was attempting to get her and her teenage daughter Nita sorted out in time for work and school. She groaned. <em>Who could it be at this time? <em>She thought as she crossed over the hallway, clad in a thin t-shirt and jeans, and opened the front door. Her soft brown eyes widened in shock. Two police officers, both dressed in the typical black and white, were standing on her doorstep.

"Kirsty Clements?" The one on her left spoke. She nodded, confusion etched into her features.

"Yeah, that's me. Is there something I can help you with?" She asked faintly.

"We are here to arrest you on suspicion of manslaughter. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

Kirsty stepped backwards into her hallway as the other policeman produced a pair of shiny metal handcuffs.

"N-no..." She stammered, shaking her head. "There must be some mistake!" At that point, Nita appeared at the doorway to the kitchen.

"Mum, I can't find my jumper..." Her voice trailed off as her gaze landed on their 'guests', and she stood staring at the scene, mouth still slightly open. "Mum," Her voice took on a new, fearful tone as she addressed her mother, now being lead away from the house with her hands cuffed behind her back. "What's happening?" She followed the trio from the house, still adorned in her pyjamas.

"Nita sweetheart, get back in the house." Kirsty's voice wobbled but she managed to flash her teenager a half comforting, half pained smile. Throwing her mother a distressed and frustrated look, Nita turned on her heel and re-entered the house, as the officer pushing Kirsty into the back of the police car assured his charge that care could be arranged for her daughter.

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><p>It had been three months since the death of Kirsty's husband, Warren, and if she was completely honest she would admit that a lack of his presence wasn't necessarily a bad thing.<br>For so long, he had been physically abusive towards her; causing such damage to her through bruising and fractures that even a few of Kirsty's colleagues at Holby City General Hospital had noticed something was wrong- and as she tried her best to act stoically, this was certainly saying something. In the end, it was Adam -a consultant in the ED- who saw past her brave front, and confronted her after discovering the results of an X-Ray that the mental health nurse had secretly arranged after a particularly bad beating.

But even Adam, someone she had _thought _she could rely on, had suspected her of pushing her violent husband down the stairs, the event that had ultimately lead to his death.  
>It frustrated Kirsty that no matter how much she emphasised that it was Warren's illness that had caused him to fall, and it hadn't had anything to do with her, nobody seemed to believe her. Just a few months before the accident, he had been diagnosed with Muscular Dystrophy, a degenerative disorder that leads to the eventual loss of muscle tissue.<p>

As the police car sped away from her home, Kirsty's insides twisted themselves into knots. Would Nita at least believe that she was innocent? Having her wrists cuffed behind her back made it very awkward to sit comfortably, and as she stared out the window at the passing buildings her mind raced, trying to make sense of it all.  
>The case had been closed shortly after Warren's death, so why was it being re-opened now? What new evidence could have come to light suggesting that Kirsty had pushed her husband?<p>

When they arrived at the police station, she was lead into the building and had her possessions taken away. Her mobile, her keys, and a packet of chewing gum were all she had on her at the time, but it still felt odd watching her personal items being locked up as she herself was lead into an interrogation room. Her handcuffs removed, she rubbed at her sore wrists as a third officer entered- a woman, this time. She had red hair and blue eyes and wore a look on her face that did not resemble one of disgust as it could have done in this situation.

"Here." She placed a bottle of water on the table before her, as if she knew that Kirsty had been arrested before he'd had the chance to pout herself a glass of orange juice as she had been planning to.

"Thanks." She murmured, taking a long draft of fairly cool water. The woman introduced herself as Police Inspector Allison Miles, and took a seat before her.

"As I'm sure you know, you are here on suspicion of killing your husband, Warren Clements." Kirsty shook her head hard.

"I don't understand, I was cleared of that months ago! It was agreed Warren fell due to his illness, not because of me."

"Yes, well, my colleague was going over the paperwork and found an element that made him feel that the case was not entirely that simple."

"And what element might that be?"

"I believe you work with one Doctor Adam Trueman?" The brown haired woman groaned inwardly. _Not this again, _she thought.

"Yes, that's right."

"Well, Doctor Trueman made a statement that all was not well in your household."

"I know, but Ad- I mean, _Doctor Trueman _was wrong about that. Mine and Warren's relationship was fine." The brown haired woman's fingers interlocked as the Inspector drew her chair closer to the table, leaning closer towards Kirsty.

"So there was no violence, or anything of that sort?"

"No!" She answered a little too quickly, and the other woman's well-trained eyes narrowed. She'd had enough experience in interrogation to know when someone wasn't being entirely truthful.

"Miss Clements, if you pushed your husband away from you in an act of self-defence that resulted in him falling, then you will be able to get a reduced sentence." Kirsty shifted uncomfortably. "However, if you are withholding important information then there could be serious consequences for you."

"I'm sorry, this is all based on one uncertain statement?" P.I Miles nodded.

"We have to take these things very seriously." She reasoned.

"Will I be allowed to go today, or should I call a lawyer?" Kirsty asked, her tone cold.

"You will probably need to spend a couple of hours in a holding cell while my colleagues sort out some paperwork, but after that you should probably be free to go." She nodded.

"I'm not answering any more questions. I had _nothing _to do with my husband's death, and you can't stick a charge on me based on this 'evidence' you've suddenly brought up out of nowhere." Miles sighed as she nodded and got to her feet, calling for the policemen to come and take Kirsty away again.

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><p>As she sat in her cell, shivering slightly from the cold, a few tears slid down Kirsty's cheeks. As she wasn't going to be staying long, she was not allowed to have a phone call; besides, she wouldn't know who to place it to anyway.<br>She knew that Adam hadn't meant to cause all this trouble, but it was hard not to feel a bit of resentment towards the man when his words had lead to her being wrongly accused of manslaughter.

After the awkward days that had followed Warren's death, with Nita disappearing and Adam wondering if Kirsty _was _capable of killing her husband, pretty much every glimmer of romance towards the consultant had dissolved from her mind. The only intimacy they had shared in a long time was a few fleeting glances in the Emergency Department staff room and when he accidentally brushed her hand while they were both working on a patient together. Thinking back to it, Kirsty sighed. This wasn't happening how she'd imagined it would be- and she couldn't pretend that she hadn't fantasised about him taking her away from the whole mess, like her knight in shining armour.  
>But when your knight in shining armour turns out to just be your average Joe, how do you ever go back to how you once were? Feeling that way caused guilt to well up in the pit of her stomach.<br>Being nowhere near perfect herself, she felt bad knowing that she couldn't get past his bad traits and just focus on the ones that made her feel special. That made her feel exactly the opposite to the way she felt when she was with Warren.

Sitting on the bed in her cell, Kirsty placed her head in her hands.

How was it that, even beyond the grave, Warren was still able to torment her like this?

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><p><em><strong>AN:**_ _**...Well, that's my one-shot theory down the drain.  
>Seriously guys, if you want more (which you might not), you're gonna have to review. If I don't think it's worth doing another chapter due to a lack of reviews, I won't.<br>Simple as that.  
>Ta for reading :D<strong>_


	2. Chapter 2

Hey everyone. Before you get excited, this isn't Kaia. I'm Ely, her best friend. Well, one of them (the other being 'Your Worst Nightmare -x-', a really lovely person and a talented writer).  
>If you know Kaia personally, or have even read her profile, then you will know that she suffers from Huntington's Chorea, which is a genetic and progressive illness.<p>

Anyway, she's gotten worse recently, and the last couple of days she's been in hospital and neither me or Erin (Nightmare) really know what's going on with that.  
>She's still getting reviews on her stories though, and I thought it might be a good idea to let you know why she won't be updating for a while…<p>

So please leave a review for her telling her how much she means to you (even if you don't really know her) because if… _When_ she gets out it'd be nice for her to be able to read all the messages, yeah? It would mean a lot to all of us.

Even if it's only for a couple of minutes, a couple of seconds even, please hold her in your thoughts today. Because we really want her to get better, Erin and I, and I'm sure you do too.

Thank you

Oh, and sorry if I spell some things wrong… Spell check on Microsoft Word 2010 seems to be a little fucked up.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello everyone.

I know you expected this to be a long chapter with many apologies and half-hearted excuses but it isn't. There's nothing fake about this.

Kaia A'ala Rhea Lombardi passed away on Friday the 22nd July at 3:22 am with her son and brother in her arms. I know she promised to try and finish these but she never did, and there were no documents on her computer

I hope you see this as Kaia's goodbye and also just an informative, but Kaia didn't really leave us with instructions with what to do when she left, we knew it was coming but we never asked her what to do with her fics. It crossed my mind that we should continue them but only briefly, it would be an insult to her talent.

Well, here it is then. The last chapter of any of Kaia's stories ever, unless her laptop harbours some documents, but she spent her last weeks in palliative care, saying goodbye to her friends and declining treatment

She was an inspiration and a perfect friend to everyone who ever met her, she always had a bright outlook, whether it was her brother and his goldfish obsession or telling us that one of her doctor's was really hot.

This is Erin and Ely, signing off for Kaia for one last time.

We won't deactivate this account, but there will be no more updates. All reviews and alerts go to Ely now and we'll appreciate every message of comfort we may receive because knowing Kaia and then losing her hurts more than it's imaginable

Good luck with your own writing, and… goodbye.

Ely and Erin


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